


lonely gods

by stuff_and_nonsense



Category: Kill Six Billion Demons (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dream Sex, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-12 17:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuff_and_nonsense/pseuds/stuff_and_nonsense
Summary: Incubus pays Jagganoth a visit. He might have some ulterior motives...





	lonely gods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadmean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmean/gifts).



Inside Jagganoth’s mind is a battlefield. There’s no battle at the moment - just a field of corpses with Jagganoth standing in the center, pounding at his forge. His great horned head rises when Incubus enters, then falls again, dismissive. 

Incubus bristles at that. He can be anything here, in his realm of dreams, so he makes himself tall: still slender, but standing high enough to meet Jagganoth’s eyes. 

“Why are you here?” Jagganoth growls. He swings his hammer again, the sound filling the emptiness around them.

“Just thought I’d give you an update,” Incubus says, pointedly studying his fingernails, which are well manicured on unscarred hands. He’s stayed close to his real form here – Jagganoth wouldn’t appreciate the guises he usually wears in dreams, too single-minded. But he’s polished it up a bit, made himself a little less ravaged, a little more godlike.

“You have news? A weakness in the others?” Jagganoth asks. He drops the hammer and turns to face Incubus, who shrinks down, just a little, give to him back the height advantage. He’s won Jagganoth’s attention, so he can let him feel like he’s in charge.

“No more than usual,” says Incubus. “They still huddle in their castles like rats. But the girl still trains, and grows stronger. She grows impatient too. I don’t think it’ll be long before she moves against Solomon.”

“That’s hardly news,” Jagganoth says. “Why are you really here?” The forge is gone now; there’s only Jagganoth, standing in among the corpses. He looks exactly as he does in life, no division or obfuscation. He’s grown, or Incubus has shrunk more than he meant to, and he towers over Incubus as he does in life.

“Maybe I just wanted to check in on an ally,” Incubus said. “There’s been no word from you for months.”

“I am preparing,” Jagganoth says. “I grow stronger.” The words boom from behind his mask.

“Well, good,” Incubus replies. “Maybe you’ll be ready for the girl after all.“ He turns and begins to walk away.

A heavy hand slams down on his shoulder. “This is not acceptable,” Jagganoth says from behind him. 

Incubus barely keeps his balance at the impact, but manages to step sideways instead, sliding out from under Jagganoth’s hand. He raises an eyebrow at Jagganoth as he turns. “What’s not?”

“Entering my mind. Trespassing here without permission.” Jagganoth steps forward, looming over him again. Incubus had expected this, drawn it out intentionally, but he still bites back real fear for a moment. He’s in control here though. The girl may have caught him off guard recently, but Jagganoth doesn’t have her power. Incubus has bet everything on that. This dreamscape is his realm; Jagganoth’s just provided the scenery. 

“I recall you visiting me without so much as a calling card, not too long ago,” he says. “Why not even things out? And don’t you get lonely here all by yourself?”

That’s when Jagganoth grabs him, huge hand wrapping around his torso. “I don’t need your company, little pretender,” he says, lifting Incubus nearly level with his face, squeezing uncomfortably tight. His breath smells of meat, even in this dream.

“I think you want it though,” says Incubus. “Some things you can’t do with all these corpses you’ve left laying around. Well, unless you’re really determined.” 

Jagganoth growls. He raises his other hand and rests one finger, the nail sharpened to a claw, against Incubus’s throat – just hard enough to prick the skin, carefully controlled for all his strength. Incubus tilts his head back slowly, looks him in the eyes. In a sudden motion, Jagganoth rips downwards, tearing through fabric, just scraping over skin.

“You missed me after all,” Incubus says through a grin.

“You talk too much,” Jagganoth says, and drops him. Incubus floats down slowly, shrugging off his torn robes and letting them fall to the ground below him.

“You know how to shut me up if you want to,” he says, looking up at Jagganoth. He really is enormous, all thick muscle under his scarred skin. Incubus now stands barely level with his knee. He hasn’t yet had the nerve to do this in real life, wary of lasting injury, but perhaps soon, depending how this time goes…

Jagganoth unfastens his loincloth, revealing a cock half the size of Incubus’s torso. To Incubus’s smug pleasure, he’s already beginning to grow hard. Jagganoth leaves his helm and armor in place, as intimidating as ever even half-undressed. He grabs for Incubus’s waist and lifts him up again, rather than bend a knee even for this purpose.

Incubus doesn't try to fight it. He leans back, shows off as much exaggerated relaxation as he can manage, while Jagganoth holds him in one hand like a doll. With the other hand, Jagganoth begins to stroke his own cock, bringing it massive and erect. Then he swings Incubus over, and slowly presses him down onto it.

In this realm of dreams, Incubus has quite a bit of power over his own sensations, if he’s not taken by surprise. He doesn’t have to feel anything from this – no pain, no uncomfortable stretching – but what’s the point of that? He lets his dream-form experience everything. The only concession he makes is conjure up a bit of lubricant, since Jagganoth’s not about to do that for him.

He feels Jagganoth slowly push into him, opening him up a bit at a time. He breathes deep with illusory lungs, lets himself relax around it. There’s a little tension, a little pain, but he wants it, wants every bit of the experience. He lets Jagganoth press further in, pause and then shove deeper in one sharp thrust that sends an electric shock through Incubus. It slides over the sweet spot inside of him, then stops, solid and present and leaving him greedy for more.

Jagganoth is unreadable, glowing eye and bared teeth behind his helm fixed in his constant expression. Incubus feels a surge of annoyance; tightens on Jagganoth for a moment and runs a bare foot over the underside of his cock. He’s rewarded with an almost imperceptible shudder. “Surely you can do better than that?” he purrs.

A wordless snarl, and Jagganoth shoves him down, pushing into him another few inches. Incubus gasps, and looks down to see the outline of Jagganoth’s cock pressed into his stomach, distending him from groin to navel. It’s a strain, but it’s so good, filling him up. He runs a finger over it, savoring. He’s been waiting for this. He’s earned this.

He looks up again at Jagganoth’s impassive face, reminds himself that he should make some more effort to keep this reciprocal. But then Jagganoth starts to move, and any worry about that leaves him, hearing the noises he makes, his rapid breathing. Jagganoth holds him tight and thrusts, rubbing again and again over his prostate, and somehow pushing deeper still. It’s almost too much, overwhelming, but he doesn't protest, lets himself feel it, more and more and more.

He doesn’t get to do this often. His followers are all greed, all demanding things from him – give me power, give me beauty, fill me with what you have – and when does he get that for himself? He’s the greedy one now, wanting Jagganoth to give him everything, fill him up, but doesn't he deserve it? He’s a god, no matter what they say. He can take what he wants.

And for all Jagganoth knows, Incubus is doing him a favor. That’s the best part of this pact of theirs. 

Once last push against the sensitive part inside him, and then he’s coming, shuddering in Jagganoth’s hand. He forgets where he is for a moment, just him and his pleasure at the center of the universe, but comes back to awareness in time to Jagganoth slides out of him. Incubus feels a wetness, dripping out after; they must have come to completion at the same time. Auspicious, perhaps. 

He takes a moment to breathe, watches Jagganoth watching him. Jagganoth drops him again, the petty asshole. This time he breaks the fall by blinking his dream-self in and out of existence, landing on the ground fully dressed and cleaned. 

He waves a casual goodbye and walks away across the battlefield, then vanishes out of Jagganoth’s mind, returns to his familiar place in his great chamber of blood. There’s no pain, here in his real form, although he can feel the ghost of it along his limbs, deep inside his gut. He’ll hold on to that, let the dream keep its hold on reality, until he finds another excuse to pay a visit.


End file.
